Notes from the Underground
by Lppurplegirl11
Summary: One night, an unsuspecting Seto Kaiba finds a mysterious yet familiar box at his house. Can he handle what he finds inside? One-shot.


Seto Kaiba laid shrouded in the dark, a now sleeping Mokuba resting between his arms. He caressed the younger Kaiba's face, still able to feel the slight trail of tears on his cheek.

This kind of crap is the exact reason why Seto was so against letting Mokuba get a pet in the first place. Pets die. Death had already haunted the duo enough; he never wanted to allow it to reach his brother with its cold hands ever again. Seto softly slid a pillow under Mokuba's head and lifted the covers over him. He closed the door behind him with a soft thud and ambled through the corridors of Kaiba Manor to the backyard.

There a snow white rabbit was curled up in a heap amongst the neatly mowed grass. Shovel in hand and lantern nearby, Seto began sifting through the dirt in a deep silence that was broken only by the sharp clink of his foot against the shovel. Suddenly he made impact with something in the ground. _"The hell?" _he thought. He kneeled down over the shallow hole and brushed his hand against something solid.

Seto grabbed the lantern and held it above with a curious glance down at the obstruction. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a light blue color. Or it was before the soil stained it with streaks of black. A thousand scenarios rushed through his mind. What was this strange thing? A secret left buried by Gozaburo, banished in the earth and never to be seen again? He scratched the dirt away with his nails until he was able to bring the object up to light.

It was a box, dirty blue, bent and broken. Seto wasted no time peeling off the lid to reveal that at the bottom sat a clean and meticulously folded sheet of paper. A low hum escaped him. It wasn't as exciting as he hoped but he was still curious of what was yet to come. He wiped his palms against his pajama pants and reached for the note.

The markings inside belonged to a child, as far as he could tell. _"Is this Mokuba's?" _he wondered. "Wait," he said in realization. "This is my handwriting." A torrent of old memories swirled inside his mind. It was about a year after Gozaburo had taken him in. He was almost the same age as Mokuba when he wrote it. A letter, a poem, addressed to his parents.

**Dear Mom, **  
**It's been six years since you've died**  
**I've taken care of brother **  
**but it's often he still cries**  
**He loves you very much even though he's not aware**  
**of how you used to laugh**  
**or the way you wore your hair **

**We lived at the orphanage for two dreadful, long years**  
**I stayed strong for the both of us**  
** but I still wish that you were here**

**I feel so bad for Mokuba because he'll never see your face**  
**He'll never get to kiss you **  
**or know your warm embrace**  
**The years keep going by and they take my memories too**  
**but If I had it my way**  
**I'd always remember you**

**Dear Dad,**  
**It's three years that you've been dead**  
**I see you all the time**  
**but only in my head**  
**You see, I don't have anything left of the life we used to know**  
**except my little brother**  
**but you'll never see him grow**

**Last year I challenged a man and I bet that if I won**  
**he'd adopt me and Mokie**  
**so that we both could be his sons**

**The man was Gozaburo, a name I'm sure you've heard**  
**Well now your sons are Kaibas **  
**but this is where the lines get blurred **  
**I thought that since we had a home, we could have a childhood**  
**but it didn't take long for me to realize**  
**that Gozaburo's up to no good**

**I find myself a pawn in the evil game he plays**  
**He binds me in a collar**  
**and makes me study nonstop for days**

**One day I'll own his company and his enormous fortune**  
**I promised to build an amusement park**  
**for all the other orphans**  
**When I grow up, I'll let them in for free**  
**because I think that they'll remind me **  
**of how me and Mokie used to be**

**My letter's almost over now so I'll end it just by saying**  
**that I remember you the most **  
**when I hear Mokuba outside playing **  
**Even if I don't, I'm glad he still knows joy**  
**I miss you both so much**  
**Sincerely, your little boy**

His cerulean eyes were wide. In an antsy motion he flicked his tongue over his barren lips. For a moment he remained still, frozen in time just like the words on the page. It was uncomfortable to see, to say the least, the candor he possessed then compared to the denial that currently controlled him. His life was a constant charade of indifference, always pretending that the past didn't define him. But it did. Almost in his entirety he was a product of suffering, having yet to move forward.

White swirled around his knuckles as he clenched the paper. Temptation urged him to crumple it, rip it to shreds, and return it to its shallow grave but something hindered his resolve. A nagging question: would his childhood self be proud of who he grew up to be? "No," he said through a disappointed chuckle.

Seto refolded the note and placed it in his pajama pocket. He lifted the rabbit with a gentle touch and laid it to rest for Mokuba. Afterwards he sauntered back to his bedroom where the child was still fast asleep in a wild tangle of his raven hair. The bed swayed slightly as Seto slid in next to his brother. Mokuba shifted and murmured beneath the sapphire blankets.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Mokuba…" he began, "did I do okay?"

"Okay for what?" he mumbled sleepily.

"For us. Did I give you everything you ever needed?"

Mokuba sat up now, baffled. "Nii-sama… of course you did."

"I'm glad. I'm just sorry things couldn't have been different for you."

The concern in Mokuba's eyes only intensified. "Are you okay? I didn't know you still worried about these things after so long."

"I didn't but-"

"Nii-sama, you shouldn't focus on the things we'll never get to have. You did the best you could for me and I'm proud of you. Look around us. Look at the great life we live. It's because of the sacrifices you made. And even if tomorrow we lost it all, I'd still have everything if I had you." Mokuba curled up against Seto's broad chest where he could hear the steady beat of his heart.

"Thanks, Mokie," were the only words he could manage. It wasn't easy for Seto to express himself, to let Mokuba know the clarity his words gave him, but it was the best he could do. For the past seven years Seto based his self-worth based on the number of victories he had, whether it was in business, a duel, or even an argument. But if someone could look at him and see the good he held inside, maybe he had something to be proud of after all.

With an exhausted yawn, Seto wrapped his arms around his brother and together they drifted into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
